


unintended

by asukesay



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Eventual Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:25:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asukesay/pseuds/asukesay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No way - Tanaka can't be fantasizing about his senpai; not less than an hour after he’d found Sugawara crying alone in the club room, in love with someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

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When Tanaka walks into the club room after practice on a Thursday – he’d forgotten his jacket once again and he'd be damned if his sister was going to scold him if she noticed he was walking home in the cold without it - he doesn’t expect to see Suga, knees against his chest, curling his arms around himself in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows behind the row of shoe lockers. 

His shoulders are shaking -

He's crying.

And it’s a pretty surreal experience for Tanaka, who up until that point in time, has never seen or thought of or _wanted_ to think of Sugawara Koushi crying.  Sugawara Koushi, who was gentle and loyal and kind – even when he was sending a karate chop into your gut.  And the sight of those delicate shoulders hunched and shaking, arms folded over the legs curled into his chest, rhythmic sniffling punctuating the silence around them – the only sound other than Tanaka’s heartbeat in his ears – sends Tanaka spiraling into a whirlwind of emotions.

Confusion is the first one to hit him hard, because _why_ is Suga crying by himself in the club room when practice is long over? The next is _anger_ , because _who caused_ Suga to cry by himself in the club room when practice is long over?  Sugawara Koushi was an absolute _angel_ – a joke among the third years and Daichi and Asahi when he was a first year, something he thought was just a nickname given for his ethereal looks and soft demeanor – and then he’d actually gotten to know the setter; how patient and sincere he really was – and Tanaka realized that _no_ , Sugawara Koushi was actually, _literally_ an otherworldly creature too good for the mortal plains of existence he inhabited and it was _not_ just a nickname –

It was a fact, as real and true as any undeniable claim; the sky is blue, the grass is green, the oceans are vast and Sugawara Koushi is an _angel_.

And Sugawara Koushi is _definitely_ undeserving of whatever hurt had caused him to hide in the shadowy corners of the club room, stifling his sobbing with the back of his hand pressed against his mouth.

Tanaka’s not the best at comforting people; as much as he liked to think he was an empathetic guy and as much as the tough act he put on was just that – an act – he never was good at making others feel better. He’s sure nurturing was something you learned growing up, and his sister had been the one to raise him, mostly. And her way of nurturing was to slap a Band-Aid on his bruises, punch him in the arm with a chiding, ‘suck it up, Ryuu,’ and take him to the convenience store for an icy pop and whatever else he needed to forget his problems.

He can’t quite imagine punching his senpai and then dragging him down to Sakanoshita for icy pops.  Especially not when looking down at the third year makes Tanaka feel like his heart just took a nose dive into his stomach. 

Still, he can’t _not_ do anything – he doesn’t even remember why he’s here anymore, anyway. So he slides his bag off of his shoulder, placing it gently on the ground as to not disturb the setter, who’s still crying into his knees, having either not heard him, or heard him and chose to ignore him. “Suga?” Tanaka crouches down, balancing on his toes. He places a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Suga, what’s wrong?”

Suga picks his head up from his knees and looks up at him and Tanaka’s stomach lurches.  Those wide brown eyes, normally creased at the corners from his smile, are bloodshot and shiny wet. There are streaky red marks down his cheeks – the trails of his tears – usually grinning mouth trembling. He looks terrified and alone and _small_ – all things he’s never, ever seen Sugawara look, and it shocks him just how strongly he’s effected by it. 

Because for the past two years Sugawara Koushi has been the epitome of strength; not physically – Daichi’s receives or Asahi’s powerful spike would be a much better example of something tangible – but emotionally.  Tanaka has never seen Suga anything but completely optimistic; not after they’ve practiced themselves to exhaustion, not after their loss against Date Tech, not after Kageyama stole his starting position out from underneath him –

Suga always knew what to do – what the next logical step was. He was so perceptive and always thinking ahead.  He was the strong, emotional backbone of the team.  The one they all leaned on and looked to for support.  Seeing him looking so fragile and so _lost_ is doing crazy things to Tanaka’s head.

Suga jumps a little at the hand on his shoulder, but once those sad eyes dart around the room and he realizes it’s just the two of them, he relaxes fractionally.  Not enough to prevent himself from trying to put on his ‘everything-is-okay’ face.  He clears his throat before he speaks. “It’s nothing.” He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket, sniffing loudly, and clearing his throat again.  Suga stares ahead at the wall in front of him.  He pointedly doesn’t look at Tanaka.  “What are you still doing here?”

 _Right_ , what was Tanaka still doing here? He had a reason – like he would skip out on pork buns if it wasn’t absolutely necessary…He looks down at Suga, at the black jacket wrapping his smaller frame.  Oh yeah, Saeko, his jacket, her nagging.  He says, “I forgot my jacket,” – then, because contrary to popular belief Tanaka isn’t an idiot and he recognizes this as a distraction from the real issue: “Don’t change the subject. What happened?”

Suga hesitates, looking over at him with eyes too sad to belong to actual angel Sugawara Koushi – but at least he’s no longer crying, Tanaka thinks, worrying his bottom lip in between his teeth.

Honestly, he wonders if Suga will tell him; they’re…they’re friends, but they’re certainly not as close as he is with Nishinoya, or as Suga is with Daichi and Asahi.

After what seems like forever of silence between them, Suga releases a shaky breath. “If I told you, Tanaka…you’d…you couldn’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Tanaka says, bringing his hand up over his heart. “I swear.” And he won’t; if Suga was going to entrust him with this secret – this secret so devastating it made the third year cry all alone in the club room – then Tanaka won’t tell a soul.  He might be a loud mouth, but he keeps the important things to himself. And he has _never_ broken a promise.

There’s another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence – one makes Tanaka realize that he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, anticipation making the blood rush a little faster in his veins. He wonders why he’s so nervous; probably because it was the first secret he’d be sharing with his senpai. And that secret happened to be enough to make his actual angel senpai cry. And his actual angel senpai had deemed him _worthy_ enough to _confide in him_ that secret.

Really, it could give a guy a complex.

“I’m…” Tanaka watches the bob of Suga’s throat when he swallows.  Despite that, Suga’s voice still cracks. His entire body wracks with a new wave of sobbing, casting aside any thoughts Tanaka might have had other than, ‘ _Please stop crying you beautiful, sweet thing_.’ “I’m in love with him.”

While Tanaka might not have been prepared for the broken words to come out of Suga’s parted, trembling lips, he can’t say he’s surprised when they sink in.  He doesn’t need to wonder who Suga’s talking about. He may not be book smart, or really even street smart if he’s being completely honest, but he would have to be a complete moron not to know that there was only one person Suga could mean when he says ‘him’.

That also meant his senpai was…well…gay – or at least bi, right?

That’s not really a shock either.  It made sense, didn’t it?  Suga was popular with girls – Tanaka’s seen them follow the pale-haired boy around in the halls in between classes, blushing behind their hands when Suga smiled at them because who could look at a smile like that and not feel _something_.  Hell, Tanaka is straight and the first few times Suga smiled at him he felt his heart beat out of time; it was part of the actual angel thing, he’s sure – reducing mere mortals to shy, nervous puddles of goo with just a smile.  Still, even with the attention he got from females, Tanaka has never heard anything about Suga reciprocating those feelings, and how a straight (or at least _bisexual_ ) seventeen year old male could have girls trailing after him and not humor at least one of them was absolutely beyond Tanaka.

There were other things too, now that he thinks about it – little things that were bordering on stereotyping that, thanks to his sister’s social justice political correctness, made even saying them in Tanaka’s head feel kind of gross, so he keeps them to himself and doesn’t dwell on them.  But Sugawara Koushi was pretty – the kind of pretty that had Tanaka wondering if a girl could even compare – that made him think that Suga would look better standing next to the broad shoulders of a man than the petite frame of a woman.

Tanaka, tired of crouching, slumps to the ground, against the wall opposite of Suga. 

Their knees touch. 

Suga’s been looking at him for the past minute with such apprehension in his eyes that Tanaka feels shitty having kept him waiting in suspense while he gathered his thoughts.  And really, the only thing he can think to say is, “Why don’t you just tell him?”

He knows it’s not that simple – things were never that simple. As much as he flamboyantly parades his infatuation for Kiyoko, he’s not actually _in love_ with her.  He didn’t have the relationship with her that Sugawara had with Daichi.

Suga relaxes, having stopped crying sometime during Tanaka’s inner monologuing. “He’s my best friend,” He whispers. “What if he never wanted to talk to me again?  What if…he’s grossed out?”

Tanaka almost snorts. Like Sawamura Daichi would ever look at Suga with anything but complete adoration and stars in his eyes.  But it’s not his place to judge Suga – for anything.  All he really can do is be supportive and hope that’s enough.  “So you’re not going to do anything?”

“I can’t.” Suga shakes his head furiously, sitting up to lean in closer to Tanaka, red-rimmed eyes determined. “And you can’t tell anyone, please Tanaka.”

“I won’t,” Tanaka promises.

Suga’s brown eyes look deep into his, expression searching.  He must see that Tanaka is nothing but completely genuine, because he pulls back, nodding stiffly. “Okay,” he says.  He offers a shy smile. “Thank you.”

Tanaka wants to tell Suga no to thank him – not for something like this.  But Suga rises before he can open his mouth, gathering his bag and Tanaka stands to do the same.

 

They lock up the clubroom and walk to the train station together, with Suga in a much sunnier mood despite the fact that the actual sun has started to set, bathing the town in cool blues and late evening summer chill. They chat about a lot of different things – Tanaka likes this, that Suga is an excellent conversationalist, and doesn’t make him feel like he talks too much – but they don’t talk about it, even though really, underneath their current topic of conversation – surmising Tsukishima’s music taste – it’s pretty much all Tanaka can think about.

He wonders if Daichi knows; he knows their captain is kind of dense, but he and Suga did spend a lot of time together.  Tanaka wonders if Daichi has ever thought about it – if Daichi has similar thoughts of his own.

On the train home, after he had waved goodbye to Suga at the station, parting with a smile and Suga’s promise of buying him pork buns the next day for all the trouble, Tanaka sits in the train car, empty save for a few businessmen on their way home from work, and tries to picture his captain and vice-captain together.

It’s not hard – he just thinks of them as they were normally, only standing a little closer.  Maybe Suga would be shy with his affections in public, red-faced and coy as he stroked Daichi’s forearm, complimenting him on a nice receive.  He can see Daichi’s reaction; blushing and rubbing the back of his neck, brushing it off as nothing even with his pleased smile.

Then again, Tanaka thinks, Suga was pretty mischievous.  He can definitely see Suga, sly smile curling his lips, brown eyes half-lidded, leaning over to purr in Daichi’s ear, “Looking good, _Captain_.” He bets Daichi’s brain would explode. There’s no way he’d be able to handle that; he might be older than Tanaka is, but Daichi was kind of innocent.

Tanaka – he’d take all of it in stride. Maybe he’d leer right back at Suga, grab his waist and dip his fingertips underneath the waistband of his shorts, rub his thumb across the trail of wiry hair beneath his bellybutton. He wonders if that would make Suga shiver, wonders what it would take to get him to moan out –

The intercom announcing his stop snaps Tanaka out of his…thoughts. Not a fantasy, because what the _hell_ , that couldn’t have been a fantasy. Not about Suga.

Not less than an hour after he’d found him crying in the clubroom, in love with someone else.

Because that would be inconsiderate, that would be insensitive to Suga’s feelings, even if it’s inside his own head, even if it’s just a fantas –

_Not a fantasy._

He wasn’t even into men like that, that he knows of.  Sure, Suga was good looking, but that didn’t mean Tanaka wanted to…to have _sex_ with him or anything. Though, if he had to pick a dude, Suga was really pretty –

Ugh. That’s it; Tanaka decides he’s shutting his brain off for the rest of the night.  He’s done too much thinking; he’s emotionally and mentally drained. There’s no way he’ll be able to do his homework now. Really, what he needs is to lie down in bed and watch some TV until he falls asleep. No thinking required.

He will leave his senpai and his Not Fantasy™ for another day.

.

.

He realizes, as he's halfway up the stairs to his apartment, that he’s forgotten his jacket.

Damn it.

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.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga’s looking at him, eyes narrowed, calculating. “You want to replace him?”

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.

Tanaka would be lying if he said he hadn’t been expecting things to be weird between him and Sugawara – for a few days anyway, or at the very least the next morning.

How could they not be?  It had been all Tanaka could think about all night.  It’s what he thought about before he went to sleep, lying in bed for hours thinking about the sad look on Suga’s face.  He even startled awake that morning, dream still fresh and vivid of his mind of Suga sitting in the club room, small and alone until Tanaka sat with him.  They talked like they had in real life until, as dreams of his usually do, it had gone awry and Suga transformed into a giant squid and Tanaka fulfilled his bald-headed legacy and One Punch Man-ed the hell out of Dream Suga until his alarm woke him up.

On his train ride to school, Tanaka couldn’t decide what would be worse:  Sugawara-senpai acting uncomfortable around him and potentially giving him the cold-shoulder, or Sugawara-senpai turning into a slimy cuttlefish monster and wreaking havoc on the town.

But things were almost suspiciously normal as practice began.  Actual Angel Suga greeted him with a smile when he walked in the gym like any other morning, reminding him to do his stretches properly only seconds before Noya jumped on his back and demanded his attention.   He chalked that up to a fluke though; maybe Suga was trying his hardest to act like nothing was wrong – like Tanaka himself was – and maybe as practice went on that would become strained and it would become weird the more they interacted.

But just the opposite happened; in fact, Suga acted like _nothing_ had happened at all.  Tanaka still goofed off with Noya during drills, and Suga still chided him for said goofing off.  Suga still complimented and critiqued him on his spikes, and neither of them breathed a word about what had transpired the night before.

Suga acted like Tanaka didn’t know this big secret about him.  And Tanaka doesn’t really know how he feels about that. 

He spends the rest of the school day and all of after school practice not knowing how he feels about it. While a big part of him is just glad things weren’t awkward between them, another part might be disappointed, a little bit. 

Tanaka had kind of wanted to see a resolution…wanted to see how things were going to play out. 

And more than that, maybe selfishly, Tanaka wanted there to be a secret, _any secret_ , between them.

He had secrets of his own, he had secrets with other people – _dozens_ of secrets with Nishinoya – but he’d been thinking about this _secret with Suga_ all night. He’d already imagined all the sly glances that they would share when their captain walked by – maybe they’d sit on the sidelines of the court and whisper to each other, soft murmuring behind raised hands.  He’d already imagined how nice it would be to share something like that with sweet, genuine Suga.  He’d already imagined he bond that would form between them as a result…

…and he _wanted_ it.

But Suga doesn’t act like anything is out of the ordinary.  In fact, he acts so completely casual in the few times he and Tanaka interact that Tanaka starts thinking maybe he dreamed it. 

 

The school day starts and ends with no indication that anything had even happened.

 

That is, until the end of practice, when the entire team had headed down to Ukai-san’s family store and Suga had somehow taken Noya’s spot beside Tanaka without him even noticing, slipping two meat buns into Tanaka’s hands as promised, wordlessly and discreetly when the rest of the team was preoccupied with whatever Kageyama and Hinata were arguing about. 

Tanaka’s breath catches in his throat.

It hadn’t been a dream, then.

His heartbeat stutters when Suga looks at him, big brown eyes and gentle smile, and Tanaka doesn’t remember what he blames the flush of his cheeks on, only that whatever it was sounded completely reasonable at the time.

Tanaka goes home lying on a hazy cloud of sienna eyes and meat buns. Noya shoves him three times on the walk to the station, asking why he’s ‘smiling like Saeko after half a bottle of sake.’  Tanaka doesn’t have the mental capacity to do anything but side-step Noya’s next two body-checks.  He doesn’t even have the mental capacity to try and wipe the smile off his face.

 _It hadn’t been a dream_.  Suga had told him his secret – was trusting him with his secret.  No one had ever shown that kind of faith in Tanaka outside of the court (besides Noya when he needed a wingman – but that was a different story). 

It was flattering, and Tanaka thinks he could get used to it.

.

.

Four days pass without anything else happening.

Noya gets detention for skipping class to chat up these two third-year girls he’s crushing on – this week, anyway – and Daichi runs him absolutely ragged as punishment.  Of course, Tanaka takes Noya’s sentence alongside his best friend because _that’s just what best friends do._  

Tanaka forgets his jacket two out of the four days, and Saeko replaces the barbecued meat in his bento with an extra serving of vegetables in petty revenge. 

Hinata takes a volleyball to the face, courtesy of Tanaka really not paying attention because Kiyoko choses that moment to look over to his side of the court and really he’s more interested in showing off his raw strength rather than aiming.  The tiny decoy bounces right back, stars in his eyes because ‘Tanaka-senpai! So cool!’  It’s funny for all of two seconds before his nose starts bleeding.  And then Tanaka feels more horrible than he has in a long time, even more so when Suga, already on the scene with his mother hen instincts, throws him an exasperated look. 

Tanaka watches Suga bend down in front of the orange-haired first year, who doesn’t seem to be in pain at all, dabbing at the blood trickling from his nostril with a rag and a gentle touch, instructing him to tilt his head back, while Daichi stands behind him and orders that Hinata take a 5-minute time out, at least until the bleeding stops.

 

It’s kind of weird looking at the captain and vice captain with this big, unspoken secret floating around in the back of Tanaka’s mind.  Not that he’s weirded out by it or anything, but it sneaks up on him sometimes, when Tanaka sees the two of them together. 

Still, with the excitement of Hinata’s bloody nose, it’s easy to push aside.

 

Until practice ends.

 

Tanaka walks into the locker room, dabbing the sweat from his forehead with his towel.  He’s not expecting anyone to be there, thinking that most of the team has filtered out by now.

Tanaka would normally be headed to Ukai’s family store with Noya, but the libero had told him in a hurry that Asahi was going to be walking with him to the station. Tanaka might have been jealous for a split second, because Noya is _his_ best friend, not Asahi’s, before he remembers the weird hero-worship the second year felt for the ace.  Noya seemed to glow under the attention of Asahi, and Noya is his _best friend_ , so Tanaka doesn’t mind.  He’s happy for him.

Tanaka figures that he’ll shower at school, because he’s got an assignment due in the morning that he hasn’t even started.  He opens the door, steps inside and freezes in his spot, just in time to see Daichi throw Suga a friendly shoulder punch.  Suga grins, taking the punch without even a flinch before he socks Daichi right back in the gut. Daichi lets out an _oof_ of surprise, and Tanaka’s guessing pain – he knows firsthand how strong Suga apparently didn’t know he was – before the captain wheezes through a laugh. 

Suga laughs along with him, but now that Tanaka _knows_ , it’s easy to see how strained it is – easy to see the brief look of longing that flashes in his eyes when Suga looks at their captain.  It’s a little alarming how easy to see it actually is – because Tanaka isn’t the most observant person in the world, _not even close_ , and if he can see it so plainly, how can their captain not?  Was Daichi really that _dense_?

They haven’t noticed Tanaka - not that they could have when he’s standing behind the lockers, peeking over the curve of the metal to watch them.  It’s not spying, he justifies, because he’s not hiding. He’s just…waiting – for them to finish their conversation.  Because it would be rude to interrupt.  Almost as rude as eavesdropping, which he’s not doing either - because, well…because it’s not like it’s anything he shouldn’t be listening in on.

Daichi has his things gathered under his arm, backpack slung over his shoulder. He’s looking at Suga expectantly. “Are you coming?” He asks, and Suga shakes his head. 

“I wanted to shower,” The setter says, gesturing towards his towel and his school uniform laid out on the bench. He flashes Daichi a toothy grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They exchange goodbyes, and Tanaka makes a big show of rounding the corner just as Daichi turns to leave, so it doesn’t look like he was spying.  Or eavesdropping.  Because he wasn’t doing either. 

Daichi waves his hand when he passes, smiling at him on his way out.  “Nice work today, Tanaka!” He says, announcing Tanaka’s presence, and over his shoulder Tanaka can see Suga look up from where he’s rummaging through his duffel bag.  “See ya.”

Tanaka doesn’t remember what he said back to Daichi, if he said anything at all, because once the door swings shut behind their captain, it’s just him and Suga, alone for the first time since their talk in the club room.

He takes a few hesitant steps, wondering if Suga would even want to talk to him, before he remembers that Suga had made sure things weren’t awkward – had treated Tanaka the same caring way he normally had.  There’s no reason for Tanaka to be making things weird now, so he squares his shoulders and heads for the bench beside Suga, where he sets down his bag.

The air between them is kind of intense, Tanaka thinks, despite how much he’s focusing on absolutely not focusing on it, and he jumps, startled when Suga starts humming under his breath, pointedly not looking at Tanaka, and Tanaka pointedly not looking at him.

He manages to fumble through his bag and retrieve his uniform and towel quickly enough to make it into the showers before Suga, settling into his normal spot at the middle shower head.  He turns the water on and slips off his clothes, not bothering folding them just as Suga strolls into the room, towel around his waist, shower sandals smacking against the tile floor wetly. 

Suga takes the spot beside him – which Tanaka would normally dismiss because every other shower head had super low pressure and a myriad of other problems (why else would he pick this shower head for himself?) but these weren’t normal circumstances.  Now, all he can focus on is Suga busying himself with setting his bottles on the partition between the two of them, still humming audibly even as he turns on his own shower.

Minutes pass just like that, the two of them refusing to acknowledge the other.  Minutes pass and Tanaka just stands there – not washing his hair or his body or anything.  Not doing _anything_.

He has to say something.  The heavy silence and the steam of the shower are making him feel anxious.

But first he has to make it look like he’s not just standing there searching for something to say – which is exactly what he’s doing, but Suga doesn’t need to know that.  He squeezes a decent amount of three-in-one-combo-shampoo-conditioner-body-wash into his palm from his bottle on the floor, lathering it in his hands before rubbing them against his scalp.

He breathes in a few times, to calm his racing heart.  “Are you okay?” He asks slowly, raising his voice to be heard under the spray of the water, but not loud enough to shake like it wants to.

He dares to look over after gathering his courage, and he finds Suga looking at him curiously, head tilted while he runs soapy fingers through his hair.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Tanaka breathes out a breath of air he didn’t even know he’d been holding.  Suga smiles at that, cheek dimpling, and Tanaka can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.  His shoulders sag in relief.  “I don’t know,” He grins, tone apologetic.  “Sorry, I feel like I’m being really – “

A bubble of soap chooses that particular moment to drip off of the ends of Suga’s silver hair, down onto the slope of Sugawara’s neck.  Catching Tanaka’s eye.  He watches as it slides off the sharp curve of his collarbone, down passed Suga’s pale chest, turned red from the hot spray of water, passed the soft definition of his ribcage.  It disappears somewhere near Suga’s bellybutton, or maybe Tanaka has just stopped looking for it because…

Now that he’s looking at him – naked, his mind adds despite how hard Tanaka’s trying not to think about it – Tanaka is realizing just how soft and pretty Suga really is.

Okay, yeah - he’s always found Suga pretty.  But there’s a certain softness to him underneath his uniform that Tanaka wasn’t expecting.  Because Tanaka had never lingered or _wanted_ to linger when he happened to glance at his senpai every other time they were showering.  Because it was never the two of them alone like this.  Because he was always distracted by goofing off with Noya or picking on the first years.  Because he’s been thinking about nothing but Suga for the last four days.  Because he just wasn’t supposed to notice things like that in the first place –

But he’s noticing now.  Suga didn’t have ripped abs like Daichi and Asahi and Tanaka did, he didn’t have the tight, taunt beginnings of muscles like Noya and Hinata and Kageyama.  He was just…soft; his lack of definition kind of…enchanting. 

Like a girl.

But clearly not, because the wispy, grey hair beneath his bellybutton led to all the proof Tanaka needed, hanging soft and unassuming between his legs, paler than Tanaka’s –

“Uh…Tanaka?”

Despite the heat of the shower, Tanaka feels his blood run ice cold.

“Sorry!” Tanaka squeaks, _literally squeaks_ , and he might have denied that someone as manly as him could have ever squeaked if he wasn’t too busy being absolutely horrified.  He tears his eyes away from his senpai’s…body, back to Suga’s surprised face and tries not to pass out. 

He stammers for an excuse.  “Th-there was – I thought that there might have been – there was a bug! Suga-senpai! A bug!”

Suga at least looks convinced, looking down at his feet, at the bubbles collecting by the drain.  “A bug? Is it gone?”

“Yep!” Tanaka barks, too quickly to be convincing in his own ears. 

Tanaka decides he’s just going to wash the soap off his body and stare at the tile wall in front of him and never look at Sugawara again – at least, not until he gets his own inexplicably rampant curiosity under control.

And that’s exactly what he does – finishing his shower in record speed, twisting the handle of the faucet so hard he thinks he might pull it out of the wall.  He turns to bid Suga a good night, like he normally would, when he remembers that Suga is still naked and he’s going to do or say something else completely ridiculous and that it’s better if he just leaves without embarrassing himself further. 

He wraps his towel around his waist and high tails out of the shower without so much as a glance back.

He trips over his own clumsy, hurried feet on his way to his locker, fumbles with his lock combination and shoves his legs through his boxers without realizing first that they’re inside out and backwards.  He considers leaving them that way – anything to get out of that locker room before anything else can happen – but that would be too pathetic – even for him. 

He hadn’t bothered drying his skin so his shirt sticks to him as he tries pulling it back over his head, frustrating and flustering him even more – enough so that he’s growling and cursing at himself, too loud and in his own head for him to hear the other shower turn off, or for him to notice Suga re-entering the room.  He doesn’t notice until his shirt is on the right way after a battle that’s left him out of breath and angry, and he turns to grab his pants, yelping in surprise at the half-naked Suga standing suddenly beside him at his own locker.

Tanaka can’t think – can’t even fucking _breathe_.  He’s frustrated and too hot and feels like he’s about to throw up or pass out or both; maybe he’s having a heart attack.  He’s not sure what’s happening, but he can’t get his breathing under control, can’t feel his legs even when he starts towards the door because he needs to get away from the situation he’s caused with his own idiocy.

“Tanaka,” A far away sounding Suga calls his name, and Tanaka feels a hand on his arm – a swimming, floating sensation that he knows is happening but can’t really feel.  Then he feels two when Tanaka tries to jerk himself away.  “Tanaka! Stop!” His voice gets louder, fingers digging into his skin slightly until Tanaka finally settles, feeling himself seated on the bench, chest heaving, heart beating wildly.

“I’m sorry!” Tanaka says quickly, if not a little frantically the second he’s calmed down enough to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.  Suga doesn’t let go of his arms, but the sharp points of his nails turn into soothing strokes of his fingertips – gentle touches that calm Tanaka down further.  They don’t stop him from babbling, however. “I don’t know how to act around you.  I’m noticing things I shouldn’t and I’m overthinking everything and I’m sorry!”

He gasps in a huge sigh, tired and kind of humiliated.

“First of all,” Tanaka doesn’t – can’t – look at Suga when he starts talking.  “You don’t have to worry about how to act around me.  You don’t have to overthink anything.  And you definitely shouldn’t be sorry.  I’m the one who should be sorry.” Tanaka _does_ look at him at that, because that’s _ridiculous_ , but Suga holds a hand up before he can tell him so himself.  He smiles, something sad, and reaches up to smooth a hand down Tanaka’s shoulder.  “If I had known telling you how I felt about Daichi would cause you so much stress, I would have kept my mouth shut.”

Tanaka laughs, trying to find the humor in the irony of the situation he’s found himself in; Suga apologizing for Tanaka’s massive, embarrassing freak out when he was literally an angel, when Tanaka caused it himself?  “Why _did_ you tell me?”

Suga looks up at him, big eyes as honest as they’ve always been.  “Because I trust you Tanaka, completely.”

Tanaka wishes he could pinpoint the exact moment the mood changed.  Before it was borderline unbearable to even look at Suga without wanting to bolt, and now –

Now Tanaka can’t look away, especially when Suga says, voice soft and slow, “And why wouldn’t I? You’re honest, and you’re funny.  And you give everything you have to everything you do…” Suga glances down, not quite at Tanaka’s nose, and not low enough to be his chin and Tanaka nearly jumps out of his skin when he can see his lips in the sienna surface of Suga’s eyes.

Suga shifts, voice dropping into octaves that can only be classified as ‘gravelly’.  “And you’re handsome…and strong…”

Fuck.

Tanaka doesn’t know what he’s thinking.  Sure, he’s kissed people before – a lot of people, actually, but it’s usually with a girl he doesn’t know, at a party where his judgment has been clouded by alcohol and grinding.  He’s never kissed a boy – hasn’t even _thought_ about kissing a boy - and _definitely_ not one of his teammates.

Definitely not Suga.

Okay, yeah – the Not Fantasy™ excluded.  But Tanaka had chalked that up to a fluke; his hormones mixing with his emotions mixing with the pretty curve of Suga’s bottom lip, trapped in a prison of straight, white teeth…

Well now he’s thinking about it, but only because Suga was _right there_ , sitting only inches from him with those big brown eyes, staring at him like he _wanted_ Tanaka to kiss him.  Somewhere, there’s a voice in the back of his mind that is screaming, ‘ **This is a bad idea.  This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. Do not kiss him. Abort.’**

Fuck that, Tanaka thinks, because Suga’s slim fingers – a comforting, noticeable weight on his shoulder – curl into his shirt, pulling him another inch closer.  He’s leaning in a little more than what’s probably appropriate for friends and teammates, soft-looking skin tinged pink from the shower, grey hair still wet and dripping.  A drop of water slides down his forehead and catches in his eyelashes and Tanaka remembers all too well how that had ended last time but he can’t help but notice because Suga’s big, doe eyes are looking into his and he can’t look away.  Suga lets out a little breath, and they’re close enough that Tanaka can feel it against his lip.  

That was a sigh of anticipation, Tanaka realizes.  There’s absolutely no way Suga doesn’t want to kiss him, unless he’s reading the signs completely wrong but there is absolutely no way he’s reading these signs wrong because they are practically written all over Suga’s face.  Because Suga wouldn’t be batting his eyes and practically moaning praises to Tanaka if he didn’t want this to happen.

Suga doesn’t move his head any closer, though, despite the way his fingers clench and unclench in the fabric of his shirt, and the implication is clear; he’s giving Tanaka the choice to either push him away, or close the distance between their lips.

He glances down at them.  They look soft, like every other inch of Suga’s body. _Definitely_ kissable.

_Like every other inch of Suga’s body._

 

That voice in the back of his mind telling him that this was a bad idea silences almost immediately when Suga’s pink tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip.  Tanaka’s entire brain actually short circuits, and his thought process shuts down completely.

Fuck it, Tanaka’s only human, and what power did a human have over an actual angel?

Suga may have been the one to lead him to the edge with his soft murmurs and fingers flexing against his shoulder, but Tanaka is the one that decides to take the leap.  Slowly, because he wants Suga to have an out if he changes his mind at the last second, Tanaka brings his hands from where they were hanging limp and immobile at his sides, up - one threading through Suga’s wet hair, the other cupping his cheek.  He takes a breath, closing his eyes because he doesn’t think he can look at Suga without losing his nerve and Suga’s were fluttering shut anyway, and he presses their mouths together.

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting.  He’s kissed girls before but this was something else entirely; in every other situation Tanaka had been drunk, carefree and absolutely not worried about anything, but now he’s completely sober and thinking too hard about _everything_ and _fuck_ Suga just opened his mouth –

But once Suga presses them impossibly closer, pulls the younger boy flush against him until Tanaka’s got him practically straddling his lap, Tanaka can’t think of anything other than the fact that he wants more, more, more –

Suga gasps into his mouth, wet and hot, hands trailing up the back of Tanaka’s shirt to pull it over his head.  Tanaka hears it hit the ground but doesn’t know where it lands, not when he’s just as desperate to pull the shirt off of Suga’s body. 

They’re probably going too fast, Tanaka thinks, breaking apart from impossibly soft lips with a gasp, only for Suga to reattach them to his neck where he didn’t know he was so sensitive.  They’re definitely going too fast, he knows when Suga’s knees hit the bench on either side of Tanaka’s thighs, grinding the hard line pressed against the towel that’s barely hanging on Suga’s slim hips into Tanaka’s bare stomach.

 _Wait_ , is what Tanaka wants to say. _Are you sure this is alright?_   But the only thing that comes out of his open mouth is a moan, one that hitches when Suga trails a hand over his hip to brush against where he’s straining in his boxers.  “Yes,” is all that comes out when Suga asks, hot in his ear, ‘Can I touch you?’

Suga’s hand slips inside the slit of his boxers, and this is new for Tanaka; the feeling of a hand on his dick that’s not his own is familiar but foreign at the same time.  Suga’s hands, callous and fucking perfect, know just where to squeeze and how fast and how tight to grip him and of course Suga was good at this, too.  Tanaka shouldn’t be surprised – he was so fucking observant on the court, of course he knows exactly how Tanaka likes this – even if Tanaka didn’t know it himself.

It’s embarrassing – how close Tanaka already is to coming.  But this isn’t how he wants this to happen.  He wants Suga writhing on top of him, crying out the way he’s making Tanaka.  Suga gasps into his mouth when Tanaka pulls the towel from Suga’s hips, taking hold of him surely.  The setter’s cock is hot in his hand, hard and velvet smooth, leaking at the tip. He rubs his thumb against the slit while his other fingers curl around the base, making Suga arch against him, keening moan loud and music to his ears. He wants to hear more - needs to hear more.

"S’this okay?" He asks, waiting for the jerky nod of Suga's head before he moves his hand in a slow, firm stroke, pushing the skin over the swollen head, grip tight enough to make him tremble in his lap. 

Suga’s fingers tighten on the back of his neck and around his cock when Tanaka really starts moving his wrist, slide of skin audible in the silent locker room, echoing against the walls and making it sound that much more loud in Tanaka’s ears.

"Fuck," Suga gasps, "I'm already close, oh god -"

"Yes," Tanaka hisses. He needs Suga to come, needs to see that he's making him feel good, after everything that’s happened over the last few days, if nothing else, Tanaka needs this.  He’s not disappointed, either; Suga spills over his hand with a moan, cut off by Tanaka’s mouth, a bruising kiss that makes their teeth knock together - a kiss that’s broken apart when Suga’s hand speeds up and Tanaka arches his back, trying to chase the feeling that’s pulling in his spine.  His head falling backwards and bangs against the locker behind him, and Suga kisses the part of his neck that’s exposed.  The warmth dripping down Tanaka’s fingers does something to his insides, makes him desperate.  _He_ did that.  He made Suga come.

He thinks he says Suga’s name when he comes, seeing white behind his eyelids, reveling in the sensation of Suga’s teeth against his throat.

 

There’s a transition – Tanaka knows – from when the two of them were leaning against one another, breathing in the warm air of the locker room, trying to catch their breath, and now – walking to the train station side by side, not looking at each other.

But it’s lost on Tanaka.

He remembers getting dressed alongside Suga after the setter wiped them both off with a towel from his bag – the awkward shuffle to find the clothes that were so carelessly tossed aside in the heat of the moment.  Suga had finished dressing before him, but had waited at the door despite how significantly more awkward it was in between them now.

It kind of made Tanaka’s stomach flip.

 

“So…what now?” Tanaka asks, finding the need to fill in the silence between them, because unlike the other day, this time the quiet is something Tanaka doubts he can handle right now.  Because he had his senpai’s dick in his hand not even twenty minutes ago and they’re not even talking about it.

He gets that it’s an awkward topic of conversation, now that they’re no longer in that rose-colored post-orgasm haze, and maybe it’s not proper etiquette to bring it up at all, but he can’t leave things unspoken like this – he needs to know what’s going to happen between them. Was this going to become a regular thing? Or were they going to pretend it never happened?  And because he can’t shut his mouth up and he didn’t really have much of a filter, anyway, he says, “Do you want to keep doing this?”

Suga tilts his head, not quite looking at Tanaka, not quite _not_ looking at him. “Do you?”

Tanaka shrugs, trying to act cavalier when in actuality his heart is racing inside his chest.  Because this is Suga; not some random girl at a random party he’ll probably never see again, but Suga – who he sees every single day – who he looks up to. But if he’s being honest, yes, he does want this.  He’d been so keen on sharing a secret with Suga, wanting that kind of bond with the setter – and this was so much more than that. 

The voice in the back of his head asks, whisper soft, ‘ _Are you even gay?_ ’ And Tanaka kind of wants to laugh at it; he’s had this though before, about Suga, and he doesn’t have the answer he thinks he needs, but Suga was pretty, and kind.  And got his dick hard.  Wasn’t that all that mattered? 

So he says, “Yes, I do.”  Boldly, and kind of idiotically, he adds, “I can be his substitute, if you want.” Because wasn’t that what this was? Wasn’t that what this was all about? Daichi?

Tanaka doesn’t notice for a few moments that there’s the sound of gravel crunching beneath only one pair of feet, glancing over to find the spot beside him empty, spinning around in confusion, only to find Suga frozen, mid step.

Suga’s looking at him, eyes narrowed, calculating. “You want to replace him?”

Tanaka doesn’t hesitate – because that doesn’t sound bad, not at all. “Yes.”

Suga blinks back at him, eyes rounding in surprise - like he doesn’t quite believe him.

Finally, he takes a step, then another, then another, until they’re side by side.  Tanaka looks ahead, and they pick up where they left off.  The quiet is back, and it sticks for the remainder of their walk, broken only when Suga mutters:

“That’s stupid.”

Yeah, Tanaka agrees.  Maybe it was.

But that didn't mean he didn't want it.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not happy with this chapter but i really wanted to get it out of the way to get into the actual storyline and also bc it's been in my drafts for A YEAR LMAO
> 
> comments and kudos always appreciated - thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely adore Tanaka and Suga, both their characters individually and together. It's criminal how little Tanasuga content there is, but if I'm being honest this is mostly self-indulgent, as I wanted to try my hand at writing Tanaka. Plus, the first chapter of this fic has been rotting in my drafts for the last 6 months.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated, and if you'd like to scream at me on my tumblr, I'll link it down below. Or write the URL at least, because I don't know how to link anything. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: takanobu.tumblr.com


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